My Enemy My Friend
by Gomes
Summary: SJ. He set her up. *-ChapterTwo-*
1. Chapter One

Title: My Enemy My Friend  
Author: Gomes  
Fandom: Stargate SG-1  
Pairing: Sam/Jack  
Rating: M  
Spoilers: None  
Warnings: Violence, strong sexual themes  
Disclaimer: All known characters and premises belong to their respective owners. So there.  
Summary: He had set her up.  
Notes: You know me and my WIPs

* * *

Bound and blinded, she struggled until a blow to the gut drew breath from her very soul. Blood trickled from her mouth, free-falling to the floor with a frightfully loud drop, signalling that much blood had since pooled around her.

She opened her eyes behind the rough cotton material that had robbed her sight. Shallow breaths, staccato in their delivery were only interrupted by gasps and coughs; her body was beginning to become too weak to regulate its breathing.

She slumped forward, the cuffs around her wrists and ankles rubbing the skin raw, preventing her from adhering to gravity's sweet demand.

A wet sponge was forcefully thrust against her mouth and she drank thirstily, her body in too much need to reconsider the suspicious offering.

She knew that at least two days had past, for the Sun's light had warmed her skin twice, and the Moon's fingers had wrapped her in cold for three. She waited for the Sun, rays that gave her false hope behind hooded vision.

She crinkled her nose, feeling the caked blood crack, pinching her skin. Her tongue snaked out, moistening her dried and split lips, tasting more of her blood. There had been so much blood.

_She heard the staff warm up, feeling it press against the bottom of her spine. She glanced up at Jack, her eyes meeting his emotionless stare._

'_No one gets left behind', he had once said. Twice commanded. And three times returned. _

_Except this time, something lay different in the air. An understanding she did not understand as she was pushed to the ground, forced to watch her CO dial out. Forced to kneel motionless while the man whom she trusted with her every last breath, nodded to the Jaffa that held her captive. _

_Nodded to their agreement._

_She had been punished, made to watch her betrayal walk through the gate and stay there until the wormhole had disengaged. _

_Sounds were deaf to her ears and her sight was soon taken prisoner by a blindfold. The last thing she remembered was her stomach's somersault as the transporter rings beamed her aboard a ship of a fake-God who had a planned agenda for her._

She spat out a mixture of blood and saliva, as a cry of anger escaped with a ragged breath. She collapsed once more, her body spent from the last burst of energy she felt. It had been a set up.

He had set her up.

The fake mission, the wild goose chase that finally led to her capture. How could Hammond have been so easily fooled?

Anger fuelled another burst as she struggled against her restraints, thrashing about, uncaring towards the self-inflicted pain that arose from her actions.

"Enough!"

She jerked her head up, ear towards the sound of the deep guttural voice that she had grown accustomed to, these past two days. She felt the shackles be loosened before she crumpled to the floor - her body too weak to sustain its own weight. Routine greeted her as she heard the rhythmic march of the Jaffa guards stop right before her broken body. She allowed herself to be dragged to the communal baths, a place she had yet to see, but could easily discern of its purpose by the sense-numbing smell of chlorine that permeated the air.

She grunted as she hit the ground hard, after having been released by the guards. Feeling her way around the dirt and walls, she reached the small enclosure that bore a hole in the ground. Pulling down her tattered pants, she squatted and emptied her bladder, blindly reaching for some paper to wipe herself with.

After she had finished, she crawled back to the center of the room, moving towards the sound of running water. She reached the pool and slid in, allowing the water to take the weight off her weary bones. Hissing out loud, she cringed as the highly chlorinated water cleaned her wounds, the sharp stings reminding her of the beatings, of the torture she had to endure. She floated there for a few minutes before an arm grabbed her and yanked her out.

"Enough bathing. Thoth is getting bored and needs entertainment. He has a special surprise for you."

She allowed herself to be guided back to her cell, groaning as she was slammed back against the wall and shackled once more. She hung there, too tired to fight. Her mind, though exhausted, fought to find memories of discussions past. _Thoth_. It was the first time her captor's name had been mentioned.

-tbc-


	2. Chapter Two

Her wrists rubbed raw as she pulled at her restraints, her mind knowing that her actions were futile yet her body unwilling to adhere to its confines. She let her head hang down as she cycled through the files of her mind, searching for familiarity in the name of her captor. Perhaps a weakness or a tidbit to give her the upper-hand. The cuffs jingled as she struggled once more, and she cast them a disapproving look. Perhaps then, to give her a fighting chance against death.

Her body was screaming as the cuts still stung from the lashes she took on her back. Her tattered BDUs did nothing to absorb the whip's fury as her body had jerked against the post she had found herself tied to, in the aptly named torture chamber.

"Thoth." She mouthed the word as she fought hard to remember the name. _Thoth. God of Knowledge. Of Secrets. Of writing. Scribes. Words. Lies. Deceit._ She banged her head back against the wall, trying to control her thoughts, trying to control her emotions. Breathing hard, she let her head fall to the side, resting against her shoulder. _Messenger. Record keeper._ _Creator of magic._ Her brow furrowed as she desperately tried to dig for something more concrete. Something that would help her.

"Samantha Carter of the Tau'ri."

She jerked her head up, wondering if it she was being summoned or presented by the Jaffa's deep voice. Tilting her head toward the entrance of her cell, she heard the a group of Jaffa fall into step. She cocked her head to the side, picking up a separate rhythm, one that walked to a different beat. All five sets of feet stopped in front of her, and she could feel the heat emanating from their bodies.

"Or do you prefer to go by just _Carter_, Carter?"

She snapped her head to the direction of his voice. Pulling at the restraints, she gritted her teeth as she only managed hurt herself more trying to break free. The blindfold was roughly pulled from her face, but she kept her head bowed, eyes screwed shut. Seeing was believing and she knew she wasn't fit enough to handle seeing the man in front of her. The man she had trusted with her life. The very same she had trusted with her heart.

She could feel her heartbeat drum in her ears as she clamped her mouth closed, trying to keep her erratic breathing in check, trying to keep her tears at bay - trying to keep any sort of reaction from being used against her.

"Aw c'mon Carter. It's not so bad once your eyes'll get used to the light. Even pulled some strings, got you a corner room with a window and a _spec-tacular_ view!"

She cringed at his purposefully harsh tone and choice of words. _Pulled some strings. _She _had _been a puppet since…since when? The beginning? She felt sick to her stomach and gagged on the bile that rose, coating her throat and mouth with a bitter taste. What little amount of courage left in her bubbled in the pit of her stomach, willing her to look her captor in the eyes. She raised her head slowly, eyes taking in the familiar combat boots with the well-known desert-camo print tucked into them. She glanced at the unmistakable P90 that rested against his chest, giving his fidgety arms something to tinker with whenever nervous.

She almost smiled at the memory and she quickly jerked her eyes up to meet his, to see if he caught her weakness.

She closed her eyes painfully at his smile, understanding that he knew. She let out a bittersweet laugh. Who could be a more perfect choice to torture her than the one person who knew her better than anyone else.

She raised her eyes once more, hoping to perchance grasp a glimpse of the man she thought she knew. She glanced at his signature smirk and she felt her body warm against her will, at the familiar sight. She cringed, a sharp pain ripped through her body, leaving her gasping for air. She glanced at him, seeing him hold up a well-known, well-feared and well-used stick, already feeling the electricity zap at her skin as the tip neared her. "Sir! No…no, please…" She begged, the solider in her stepping aside, leaving a fearful and broken person in its place.

"You should learn to address our master by his proper name and not his slave-name. Master Thoth deserves your respect." A Jaffa guard spat out, backhanding her across the face.

She turned her head, watching him approach her with that same comforting grin. The one she could lose herself in and maybe escape from her battered body and hide in her conscience until death brought peace.

She closed her eyes, holding her breath as she felt the stick stab her in the side, groaning loudly as she felt like her very soul was being ripped from her body. She slumped against the shackles as he withdrew the stick, handing it back to his guard.

His eyes flashed once. "Surprise."

-tbc-


End file.
